Luke 15:11-32

“The Open Arms of the Father:  What God Is Like”

March 12, 2006

 

Last Sunday I told an embarrassing story about myself—how coming home from Akron I accidentally got on I71 going north instead of south and wound up driving all the way to Cleveland.  And the moral of the story is:  If you’ve been going in the wrong direction, there’s really only one thing to do—turn around and go back.

There is a little bit more to that story.  In my absence, that Saturday a pretty busy day for our family.  Emily and Rachel each had a party or Scout meeting to go to, and Carolyn things to do.  And the schedule all came to a head about 5:00, when everyone needed to be a different place at the same time.  And before I left for Akron that morning I told Carolyn, “No problem, I’ll be home by 4:00; I can help get the kids where they need to be.” 

The only thing is, with my little ‘detour,’ it became clear to me that I wasn’t going to be home by 4:00—not even by 5:00.  I knew I needed to call and give Carolyn that information.  But I was a little reluctant to do that; I put it off for several miles.  You see, I was kind of afraid she’d be mad.  I thought she might say something like, “What do you mean you’re not going to be home by 5:00.  You promised!  What am I supposed to tell the girls—oh, you can’t go to your party because your father drove to Cleveland instead of Columbus?”  You see, for a moment there I mistook her for me.  Here’s what Carolyn actually said, “Oh, okay.  How are your eyes feeling?”  And the drive home suddenly got a lot shorter.  The truth is, when you’ve been gone a really long time, or done something pretty bad, probably the only thing that can get you to go home is if there’s grace on the other end:  “Oh, okay.  You drove to Cleveland.  How are your eyes?  Be safe getting home now, okay?”

There is a poem by Samuel Smith in which Jesus tells the story a different way. 

Listen:

Returning home,

greeted

by his father’s

grave,

his elder brother

master

now

of flock and field,

the prodigal

passes by.[1]

 

I think that’s absolutely right.  If someone like the elder brother is in charge of things, what’s the point in coming back?  Why even bother to say, “I’m sorry?”  No, we come back because we know, or at least we hope, there’s grace on the other end. 

Who knows why, like the prodigal son, we go away?  Who knows why we break our parents’ hearts, quarrel with our siblings?  Who knows why we cut ourselves off from our own children, why we lash out at people who have been our friends?  Who knows?  Some of us are so vulnerable, so wounded inside that we feel like we have to beat everybody away to keep ourselves safe.  Some of us feel empty inside, and try to fill that emptiness with all kinds of new experiences, not even noticing how those experiences hurt others and ourselves.  Some of us feel trapped in relationships and can’t think of any way to get out but to hurt someone.  Who knows why we go away, leaving the wreckage behind us?

And of course there’s more than one way to “go away.”  The older son in Jesus’ story never physically went anywhere, but there still developed a great distance between him and his father.  Outwardly the older brother’s was not a bad, sinful life—he was dutiful, reliable.  But there was no joy in it!  Instead of being grateful for all the good work he got to do and being thankful that he got to see his father every day, he grew full of resentment.  In the words of Gerrit Dawson, he had a “feeling of bondage to responsibilities.”[2] 

Dawson describes his own experience with this.  He says sometimes I get to feeling like everything depends on me and no one appreciates my enormous contributions to the maintenance of the universe.  I begin to feel like no one is helping me.  I wonder, ‘Why do I have to slave away at this when no one cares anyway?”  He says, I might, for instance, serve my family this attitude even as I serve them breakfast:  “Here’s the food your loving father has made for you, you ungrateful little wretches.”

Who knows why we go away, or why we stay and let there be such distance between us and the ones we love?

Perhaps, though, the most interesting question isn’t why people go away, but why we come back.  Half way through the story, when the money is gone, the women have moved on, and he’s reduced to eating pig slop, the prodigal son, it says, “came to himself.”  He came to himself.  He suddenly realized that he was not really the person he had been acting like.  He wasn’t really someone who eats pig slop.  He wasn’t really someone who spends his money on prostitutes.  He wasn’t really someone who disrespects his father.  Oh, he had done all those things.  But that’s not who he really was.  Somewhere deep down inside he knew, or vaguely remembered, that he was a beloved child of the father. 

Why do we come back?  Why do we come back to the God we’ve tried to ignore all these years?  Because we know, or vaguely remember, that we are children of a God who loves us no matter what.  Why do we come back to the people we have wounded or who have wounded us?  Well, we’re only likely to do so if we have hope there’ll be grace on the other end. 

In Dostoyevsky’s great novel, Crime and Punishment, Raskolnikov has murdered an old woman and feels no remorse.  He is a entirely unlikable character, yet through it all one woman, Sonia, somehow continues to love him.  She even follows Raskolnikov to Siberia where he is sentenced to seven years of hard labor.  She came to the fence every day to see him during his breaks from work.

For a long time Raskolnikov wouldn’t have anything to do with her; she meant nothing to him.  Then he falls ill and he’s in the hospital for several weeks.  Still Sonia tries to visit him, but she’s only  allowed stand a minute and look up at the window of the ward.  Gradually he recovers, and one evening he feels strong enough to go to the window.  He looks out and sees Sonia standing there, apparently waiting for something.  Dostoyevsky writes, “Something stabbed him to the heart at that minute.”  He realizes that while he’d thought he was alone in his suffering, Sonia had been coming every day to wait for him.

When they finally meet again, Raskolnikov flings himself at her feet.  He weeps and throws his arms around her knees.  Sonia has outwaited his self-absorption until love broke through him at last.  Because someone has waited for him, he is able to reconnect to his life and come to himself.[3]

The moral of Jesus’ parable is that there is One who waits for us.  However long we go away, however joyless and resentful we become, there is One who stands and waits for us, looking up at our lonely windows.  Until our hearts are stabbed, until we come to ourselves, and we turn towards home.  Someone is waiting for me!  And my shame will not be answered with blame and my resentment will not be held against me, and my having driven to Cleveland instead of Columbus somehow won’t seem to matter at all.  The only thing that matters is that I’ve come home.

And that, my friends, is what God is like.  I promise.  See, if the prodigal believes that someone like the older brother is in charge, he’s probably never coming home.  We can slop the pigs a long time if we don’t believe there’s anywhere else to go.  We can work joylessly and resentfully the rest of our lives if we don’t believe the Father wants us to be happy.  But God waits for us—for you, for me--with open arms and a forgiving heart.  That’s what God is like.  I promise. 



[1] Samuel Smith, “Jesus returns, only to tell a different story,” The Christian Century (July 26, 2003, p.8.

[2] Gerrit Scott Dawson, Heartfelt: Finding Our Way Back to God, p. 28. 

[3] See Dawson, 20-21.